


no body, no crime

by loveandwarandmagick



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: F/F, Implied Murder, M/M, Neil Josten as Nathaniel Wesninski, Non-Graphic Violence, POV Alternating, References to Abuse, Threats of Violence, inspired by literally one scene i've had in my head for years, mafia/gang au that no one asked for, strangers to reluctant allies to sorta friends to lovers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:02:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,864
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28305738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loveandwarandmagick/pseuds/loveandwarandmagick
Summary: Neil needs a way out, and Andrew promised Kevin a long time ago that he'd make things right.Or, the mafia au where Andrew's 'too small to call it a gang' gang breaks into the Moriyama's masquerade event and Andrew encounters Neil Josten.It is not as simple as what he thought it might be.
Relationships: Allison Reynolds/Renee Walker (All For The Game), Kevin Day/Aaron Minyard, Neil Josten/Andrew Minyard
Comments: 11
Kudos: 96





	no body, no crime

**Author's Note:**

> am i avoiding writing more chapters of martyrs bc i'm in a rut ?? yes 
> 
> here's this lovely thing instead that was inspired by a plot point i've written literally like, six years ago

“Nathaniel Abram Wesninski,” Andrew reads off the file. “Age eighteen. Standing at five feet and three inches, weighs about a hundred fifty pounds. Visible scarring all over his body, most prominent on his back and face. Athletic build, lithe and quick moving. Notable features are blue eyes and auburn hair, usually dresses in big clothes. Any questions?” 

“Sexuality?” Nicky asks, dropping his chin into his hand. Andrew’s eyes cut to Aaron quickly to catch the eye roll and issue his silent warning in the same second. 

“Undisclosed information, Nicky. And might I remind you we’re there to make a threat, not hook-up with anyone.” 

Nicky tugs on the sleeves of his white shirt, hopping up on the counter of the dim blue room. “I could threaten him plenty,” he says. Aaron makes a disgusted noise in the back of his throat. “I don’t mind a little knife play.” 

“He uses guns,” Aaron cuts in. “That’s the Wesninski thing, isn’t it?” 

“No,” Renee says, from the corner of the room. Her hair glows pearlescent against the light, and Andrew lets himself be mesmerized for a second, forgetting Nathaniel Wesninski and the pretty photo of him stuck in the edge of the folder. 

Renee nods at Andrew once and then turns back to Nicky. “It’s just Nathaniel. The rest are knives.” 

“Close combat,” Andrew elaborates. “The Wesninski’s are fucking snakes. A knife in the back is more likely than being shot in the head. They like getting close to their victims.” 

“So we watch out for him then?” Nicky asks. He’s produced his own knife from a pocket in his pants and starts scraping it against his nails, a bad filing habit that Renee taught him. The knife, like Andrew’s, Renee’s, and Aaron’s own, is for self-defense mostly. Not like Wesninski - the man of the house has only bad intentions, and always strikes first. 

From the photo in the file, Andrew thinks that maybe the younger Wesninski does too. His eyes are sharp, even turned away from the camera, and his smile is sardonic and cruel. Andrew has already decided he’s most equipped to handle that - not in the way that Nicky is suggesting, though. 

“We’ve already laid it out,” Renee says. “Andrew is covering the son. I’m with Wesninski senior, and you two make sure everyone else stays out of the way.” 

Aaron - hopelessly smitten of Renee, even if he’s never said it - nods firmly without a single protest, though when Andrew had told him his place, he’d scoffed. Nicky smiles languidly, leaning back and pocketing the knife. 

“So,” Andrew says, taking a last glance at Nathaniel and memorizing the planes of that gaunt, vicious expression, before he shuts the file for good. “Pick out your best clothes. The Wesninski’s are under the Moriyama family. That’s all appearances.” 

______

“Okay,” Allison giggles. Neil holds her up as she takes another swig of the Merlot bottle they stole from his mother’s stash. Kevin stays on the floor, prompting Neil to poke him with the toe of his slippers.

“Kev?” Allison whispers, half stumbling over to him. Neil lets her droop over slowly onto the ground, spilling over Kevin’s (hopefully still living) body. She nudges him, and his snore is joined by her raucous cheer. 

“Alive, Neil!”

“Yes I would assume half a bottle didn’t kill him Ally. Has he always been this lightweight though?” 

Allison shakes her head like she’s moving through water, like it weighs thirty pounds. Watching her, Neil is thankful he doesn’t drink like they do.

“Pre-game,” she slurs, lifting her head blearily to look at Neil. “Riko was all over him again.” 

Neil takes the moment of silence to pray silently for Riko’s untimely death, despite not believing in any god, and returns his attention to Allison’s uncharacteristically solemn expression.    
“Not like that though, right?” he asks. His teeth clench involuntarily. Allison shakes her head and pats his leg. 

“No, not like that. I was there, too. He would never.”

“Good,” he says, leaning over onto the carpet to join them. He stretches his legs out and toes off his socks to dig his toes into the plush red rug. Allison sits up long enough to tug her oversized cardigan off and spread it out over all of them like a blanket. Her head falls gently on Kevin’s shoulder, and Neil slots in next to them, shivering from the delicate feel of the cotton draped over them. 

“Neil,” Allison whispers. Kevin’s snore drowns out Neil’s whispered response. 

“Neil,” she says again. “They’re gonna take you tomorrow, you know. It’s either you or Kevin to get leverage.” 

Neil contemplates that so long that Allison falls asleep, her own snoring rising louder than Kevin’s. He whispers to himself, “Let them.”

It feels like a dare to say aloud, like somehow his father will catch the sound and come hide him away in some room. He wonders how Minyard’s shoddy street gang is going to get into such a high profile event in the first place, if his father will even care that he’s gone missing or if he’ll let Neil go. 

Knowing Nathan, he’ll let them take him for nothing in return. Neil adds it to his list of unreceived prayers, and then falls asleep after a few hours on the floor with his friends, thinking of what tomorrow night could hold. 

______

Known fact about Andrew Minyard: He cleans up nicely enough to pass for a socialite. The term is used loosely - more something that everyone else calls the highest ranking members of Seattle’s highest profile mafias. Basically, whoever has the most money and the most bodies accounted for. Andrew’s group has too many bodies in the wrong way (thanks to Nicky sleeping around for information and then blackmailing them) and too much information to ever be included in higher ranking groups. 

The blackmail would destroy them from the inside out, and Andrew can’t afford to become as powerful as Wesninski with the small group that he trusts. So, he sticks to the shadows and keeps his name as dirty as possible, willing away any trouble that he doesn’t need. 

What he does need: Nathaniel Wesninski. Renee’s inside on the family claims abuse, and Andrew needs the leverage to pull Kevin out of the family for good. 

It’s a debt never paid in full, and something he intends to make right. To make everything right. 

And well, if he throws himself into a rescue mission and gets another pretty boy out of it, at least it prevents him from working on self-awareness for another few weeks, and gets Kevin out finally. Bee, his therapist, would call that avoidance. Andrew calls it self preservation, and she laughs with concerned creases tucked neatly behind her smile. 

He adjusts his sleeves again and rolls his neck, meeting Renee’s eyes in the mirror as she comes into the room behind him. 

“Hello, Andrew,” she says, flashing her polite smile, the one she puts on for guests. 

“Don’t be so fake already,” he accuses, and her real grin jumps out. It’s just as docile, but there’s less plaster over it, and more of her real happiness in it. 

“Testing out the face,” she says, her expression returning to the placid smile from before. Andrew doesn’t mind it so much as long as he knows the real look is under it, just waiting to come out again. 

“Nathaniel,” she mumbles, and his eyes jump to hers again in the mirror.  _ Caught _ . 

Still, Andrew pursues playing dumb. “What about him?” His tone goes up and down, playing the parts of asking a question, and still he can’t make it sound quite right. Renee picks up on it immediately, of course, but she’s too kind to jump right on the truth. 

“We don’t need him to get Kevin out. Allison says that he’s basically an accessory for the family. An heir in case Wesninski oversteps the Moriyama leaders.” 

Andrew notes her use of  _ leaders _ instead of anything else. He finds the word  _ bastards _ more suitable. 

“If you’re insinuating now that we should back out and just Kevin, you shouldn’t have told me about him in the first place.” 

Renee nods, smile playing on her lips again. “You’re bringing him so Kevin will follow?” 

“I am a man of many motives, Ms. Walker.” He thinks of protection, and Kevin.  _ Pretty boy _ doesn’t seem solid enough of a motive to paint a target on their back, though, so he stays silent. 

By the way Renee’s eyes flash, Andrew figures that she knows already. 

Andrew watches her nod and walk away, adjusting her dress. He bites back his complicated emotions at the sight of her plastic smile and adjusts his sleeves again, tucking away the knife at the front of his sleeves. 

______

“Tell me again Neil,” Allison drawls from the bed, “how exactly you’re assuming tonight is going to go?” 

The way Neil’s family works is simple: his father does the killing, and his son and friends stay out of the way, as replacements for the main family. The replacements consist of Neil himself, Allison Reynolds, Kevin Day, and Riko Moriyama - each with a person they’re accountable for. 

They keep themselves alive, share information, and fantasize about the slow, painful death of their higher family. Resentment takes the place of any fondness, burns bitter through each of them. It had been them, and then the Moriyama head fell ill, and Riko had to step up. 

And as unfair as it was, the change made things irreparable: Riko became cruel, or maybe he was all along, just waiting for the chance to act on it without punishment. 

Neil contemplates this as he thinks of Allison’s question, tying together his theory and testing it out before it hits his tongue. 

“It’s Kevin, right? That’s what Minyard wants, from what Kevin says.” Neil finishes adjusting his suit and goes to sit on the edge of his bed to let Allison style his hair. 

She hums her assent, waving her hand at him to continue. 

“And so, they need to get him out unnoticed, right?” Neil pauses to wince as Allison untangles a knot in his curled hair. “And so they take me as collateral, make a big scene and Kevin leaves. The Moriyama family has Riko now, so Kevin isn’t needed as urgently, and they probably won’t bother fucking with such low grade groups. So, they take me for nothing. I’m out, Kevin’s out, and then I’ll come back for you.” 

It’s not as urgent though, with Allison. She’s strong enough on her own to stand up against anyone who gives her shit, and her family is a major source of income. Even Riko wouldn’t dare come near her now (though Allison’s not exactly in his line of preference. He prefers easy pliance.)

“You’ll come back for me,” she repeats, and Neil nods firmly, eliciting her grating laugh. “I’ll break myself out, thank you though darling.” 

With one final twist of her hand, and a few sprays of some product in a glimmering purple bottle, she finishes styling his hair. 

“Will you?” he asks. It’s more serious than Neil intends it to be, and Allison doesn’t miss it. She avoids his eyes as she pats his hair down. 

“When it works for me,” she says carefully. “If it ever does.” 

And as much as Neil wants her to come, she doesn’t fall apart here like the rest of them are - she’s less replacement and more financial martyr. Neil finds himself envying her time and time again, then clears the poisonous feelings away. There’s no room for tension when they only have each other. He tucks a piece of her hair behind her ear and she returns the rare affection with a soft look, and that’s all. 

She stands and calls for Kevin, who enters in his dark red suit, all brooding and dark emotions jumping off him. 

Neil wonders absently if Riko will be wearing the same thing, if they’ll mix the two of them up and take Riko instead of Kevin. 

If that’s even their proper plan. If Neil is right at all about what’s going to happen, based on the few whispers between an unlimited amount of unreliable narrators and his own deduction. Kevin glowers as he sits down, handing Allison his mask and a few bobby pins to keep it in place. 

“You next,” she mumbles, keeping her lips pressed tight around the pins in her mouth. “You have to wear a mask or everyone will stare.” 

It’s matter-of-fact, of course. Neil stares at the scar on his cheek and feels nothing, now. But the thought that he’s instantly recognizable for it still pours fear over his body, extinguishing the candle of confidence he’s garnered in the hopes of escaping one day. 

“Everyone’s going to stare anyway,” he mutters. “This suit is ridiculous.” 

Kevin turns his frown on Neil. “ _ I  _ look ridiculous. At least you’re the  _ only  _ one wearing that,” he says, confirming Neil’s thought that Kevin and Riko are matching after all. 

“Neil arguably has the worst one Kevin,” Allison chimes in, tucking the last of the pins into the edges of the mask. “His is velvet. At least yours is comfortable.” 

“My suffering is in the fact that I’m dressed like  _ Riko _ ,” he mutters. Allison taps the edge of the black plastic of his mask. 

“At least you might have different masks on,” she says, kissing the top of his head. Kevin’s face goes soft just for a moment before he regains his stiff demeanor. She gestures at Neil to take his place with his own mask and he sighs. 

“I don’t have pins,” he tries, hopeful for only a moment before Allison produces a bottle of them from her own suit pocket. 

“Lucky you,” she smiles, and Neil lets her do the work resignedly while Kevin adjusts his own mask. It covers half his face, the mouth pulling up in a grin on the right side. Neil assumes that it’s a play on the tragedy and comedy masks, and that Riko will have the other. He’s hoping for Kevin’s sake that Riko isn’t being  _ that  _ insufferable about matching, but his usual insistence for uniformity is probably in full effect for tonight.

Allison finishes quickly, grabbing strands of Neil’s curls and winding the mask pins around them effortlessly. 

When she’s done, Neil goes to stand in front of the big mirror reluctantly, taking in his appearance so he can fix any details. The suit is a midnight blue shade, velvet with sleek gold accents on the edges. The mask itself is shimmering gold, laced carefully across his face to look like it’s embroidered into the scar. 

It’s a Reynold’s exclusive, and the only thing he’s proud to be wearing tonight. 

“Is it alright?” she asks, touching the intricate lacing delicately to keep from messing with the placement. Neil nods and looks away from his expression, unable to stare too long without the vivid blue of his eyes turning into his father’s cruel ones. 

“We should get going,” Kevin says, tucking his phone away. Allison adjusts her suit fruitlessly - it’s already perfect - and turns to the door so Kevin and Neil can follow along. 

_____

Andrew knows many things about getting into places unnoticed, but the best is to find a friend. 

He meets Jean Moreau on the inside of the imposing iron gates, slipping alongside him effortlessly. 

“Jean Valjean,” he greets, ignoring the tight look Jean sends his way. “How are you tonight, my fine French servant?” 

“Not a servant,” he mutters. He fires off rapidly in French then, something that Andrew doesn’t understand, except for a few words. He catches  _ shit _ in the sentence and clicks his tongue, leaning in closer, but keeping a distance between their bodies. 

“Just got yourself in for nothing then, huh? Doesn’t matter now, I need you to get in.” 

“You could get in fine without me. No one will recognize you with that goth ensemble on.” 

Andrew tilts his head and brings a finger up along his mask. It’s a glossy black, half faced one, a strip of burgundy mesh covering the open sections for his eyes. 

“ _ You _ recognized me,” he returns, and Jean scoffs, striding forward. Andrew takes to observing the dimly lit room, watching as people float by without a single care of who enters. 

“How could anyone not recognize you when you open that foul mouth?” 

“ _ Oui oui chérie _ .”    


Jean covers his white mask with a wide hand, whispering, “You don’t even know what that means,” and Andrew lets his smile curve up, unrestrained. 

“The festivities await, Valjean.” 

A friend and a good disguise can get you anywhere. The disguise in this case is provided by the Wesninski himself - a Christmas themed banquet, complete with masks for the Nutcracker Masquerade element. 

The rich are fools. The rich who gain their money through bloodshed are a different type of fool - the thrill of anonymity is worth so much more than the risk of spreading secrets and schemes. 

So Andrew is set with anonymity, and he’s hanging off Moreau’s arm like he fits in perfectly. Across the floor, he spies Renee chatting up Riko. It’s obvious who he is immediately; his entire being oozing with lecherous intent. Andrew catches her eye and watches her pale lips curve up, giving away nothing about their conversation. 

“Tell me,” Andrew starts, grabbing a champagne flute from the nearest tray and thrusting it into Jean’s hand. He takes it readily, a mirror to Kevin’s old drinking habits that he’s not sure isn’t coincidental. “Where is Nathaniel? Surely he knows about you?”

“I am a glorified accountant,” Jean says dryly, followed by more French gibberish. Andrew waits for his elaboration, waving his hand impatiently. 

“I am not paid to socialize,” he finishes. Still, Andrew catches sight of bright auburn hair in the crowd and pursues it, leaving Jean behind with his champagne and foul attitude.

He takes a moment to observe - auburn hair, wearing a gold mask threaded on his skin, dark blue suit (Andrew can’t tell if the velvet works, or it’s tacky.) Definitely Nathaniel, if the pink on his cheek is scar tissue, like from the photo. 

When he turns away from the staircase and meets eyes with Andrew, the visage is unmistakable. 

Before Andrew can make his way over, Neil strides over to him first, followed by Kevin. They split before they reach Andrew, Neil keeping his straight path and Kevin walking over stiffly to the side. Andrew catches sight of Aaron at the edge of the floor in his standard black and white suit, exchanging a nod before he turns his attention back to Neil. 

_____

Andrew Minyard would be the least inconspicuous person in the room, if not for Allison and Riko. 

He doesn’t speak, but he doesn’t have to. The music starts up too loud for anything to get between them, so Neil offers his hand. 

Once Andrew takes it, Neil leans in as close as he can, careful to mind the distance between them in case the rumors are true about Minyard and being touched. 

“If you have something to say, you might as well dance with me so no one will be suspicious.” 

Andrew leans in just as close to say, “I don’t like being touched.” 

Neil gestures at the space between their bodies, holding onto the delicate balance between them. Power radiates off of him in waves, so much tension in his frame that Neil can feel it between them; stable in a way that he’s never encountered. 

Kevin’s spineless, Allison selfish, and Neil, running away. 

It’s the way they’ve been forced to be. It must show on Neil’s face, how desperate he is, because Andrew offers his hand up between them as the song swells. 

“One song, and then you find somewhere to talk.” He grabs Neil’s wrists and places them on his shoulders. “Don’t touch me any lower than this.” 

“I won’t,” Neil says. It’s a promise, even if Minyard doesn’t know it. 

And like he said, he keeps his hands up where they belong, and lets the other settle his hands on Neil’s middle back. The strings of the music crest, hitting a shrill note that makes Neil wince just the slightest bit. From the amused curl of Andrew’s lip, he catches the movement anyway. 

“I’ll assume that you’re here for a reason, and the reason is Kevin,” Neil says. This close, with so much music playing and with the mass of chatter at the edges of the room, no one will be able to hear them. Neil takes the moment to categorize his features from what’s visible to him: white blond hair, strong jaw set darker by pale lips. 

_____

Nathaniel Wesninski has raw, red bitten lips. Which means he has a habit of biting them.

Andrew pretends not to be interested in that, or the fact that he’s being watched just as closely. 

_____

Eventually, Minyard speaks. “I  _ am  _ here for that reason. You’ve figured it out, though.” 

His eyes narrow behind the strip of fabric over the openings of his mask. Neil categorizes that too - black on black suit with wine colored details. 

“You dress expensive,” Neil comments absently. He feels Andrew’s eyes snap up to his, alert and questioning, expecting elaboration. 

“You look like you belong here,” Neil adds. “Even though you don’t.” 

“What, you mean like you?” Minyard responds. Neil can’t help the dry laugh that falls from his mouth, like it was tugged out by those words. 

“Not at all.” He doesn’t elaborate, and this time Andrew leaves it.

The music dies down, and it’s only then that Neil notices they’ve made their way to the edge of the floor. The whole time, he’d been following Andrew’s lead without notice. When he finally looks around, he doesn’t feel anybody’s eyes on him. 

_ So here’s the thrill of being anonymous _ , Neil thinks.  _ I could have this, if I left. If I could get him to take me too. _

Even if life among the street group is awful, it can’t be worse than what Neil has here - a different name, sitting on empty air and hoping that he’ll never have to take the cold, empty throne of his father. Hoping he’ll never become as warped as Riko, or his parents, or anybody but himself. 

So he says, “There’s a hallway we can talk in, to the left.”

And then the music starts again, and they dance in and out, forgoing the space between their bodies as they shuffle through the crowd. Andrew leads and Neil follows, and then when he’s not sure where to go, Neil tugs his arm and leads him to the hidden door of the hallway. 

_____

Andrew tugs his knife out of the holster and uses all his force to press Nathaniel against the wall. In the same instant, he dislodges something from his own pocket and Andrew finds something hard pressed against his ribcage. 

_____

Minyard says, “I need you to come with me.” 

At the same time, Neil says, “I need you to take me with you.” 

Both are holding weapons. There is no compromise. 

_____

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading dears ! this will be part of a four part series i believe. merry christmas to those celebrating, and happy holidays to anyone celebrating any other holiday !!
> 
> stay safe darlings, you are loved !!


End file.
